Taken by the Mafia ✧⁠*⁠。

Episode 15

It had been a few days since Santa and Barcode had started living under the same roof as Perth and Jeff. The initial fear they both had for the two cold, intimidating men hadn’t entirely faded, but they were slowly getting used to them. Perth and Jeff’s authority was undeniable, but somehow, it became easier to listen to their orders, especially with Aunty Mai there to keep things calm and grounded. Both Santa and Barcode helped her with everything around the house, making the transition a bit smoother.

This day was no different. Santa and Barcode stood in the kitchen, peeling vegetables and chopping ingredients under Aunty Mai’s guidance. The sound of knives hitting the cutting board mixed with the soft clinking of pots and pans on the stove.

Aunty Mai’s phone buzzed on the counter, catching her attention. She wiped her hands on her apron and picked up the phone, squinting at the screen. "Santa," she called, "can you bring a cup of tea to Perth's room? He just messaged me asking for it."

Santa’s stomach tightened slightly at the mention of Perth. Even though he had grown used to seeing the older man around the house, there was still something about Perth that unsettled him. He didn’t like how Perth could make him feel small with just a glance, or the way his sharp words always seemed to carry a hidden meaning.

Santa let out a soft sigh but nodded. "Okay," he replied, his voice tinged with reluctance.

Aunty Mai, ever perceptive, smiled warmly at him. "It’ll be alright, Santa. He won’t bite."

Santa forced a small smile in return. After Aunty Mai finished brewing the tea, she carefully poured it into a delicate porcelain cup, placing it on a small tray. "Here you go, dear. Just take this up to him, and you can come back down when you're done."

Santa took the tray and nodded once more, his fingers gripping the sides tightly as he made his way up the stairs. His heart beat a little faster with each step, the silence of the hallway making him hyper-aware of the growing distance between him and the safety of the kitchen.

When he reached Perth’s door, he paused, staring at it for a moment. He drew in a breath and knocked softly.

"Come in," Perth’s deep voice called from the other side.

Santa opened the door slowly, stepping into the room. Perth was sitting at the edge of his bed, looking over some papers spread out on a low table nearby. His eyes flickered toward Santa for a brief second before returning to the papers, seemingly uninterested.

Without saying a word, Santa walked over to the small table beside the bed and set the tray down carefully. He was about to turn and leave when Perth’s voice stopped him.

"Wait."

Santa froze for a second, then slowly turned back around. "What?" he asked, a hint of annoyance slipping into his tone despite his best efforts to keep it neutral. "Do you need anything else?"

Perth looked up from his papers, his gaze locking onto Santa. There was something in the way he stared—intense, calculating, but with a hint of something else, something Santa couldn’t quite place. It made his skin tingle with unease.

A slow smirk curved across Perth’s lips. "You’re always in such a hurry to leave," he said, his voice low and teasing. "Why don’t you stay for a moment?"

Santa’s eyes narrowed slightly. "I have things to do downstairs."

Perth stood up, taking a step closer to Santa. There was a noticeable shift in the air between them, a kind of tension that made Santa’s breath hitch slightly in his throat. Perth’s smirk grew as he closed the distance between them, standing just inches away from Santa now.